


brush contact

by demistories



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Anxiety, F/M, Gen, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spies & Secret Agents, Trans Adrien Agreste, Trans Character, as we go on, for the first half theyre smol, then its
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9219224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demistories/pseuds/demistories
Summary: Adrien really wishes that his father would inform him when there are new additions to the security detail. There’s something incredibly terrifying about being grabbed by the waist and yanked under a table. It’s more terrifying when it’s not someone you have mentally prepared yourself to be yanked around by.“Cambric or calico?” he whispers to her.Adrien gets dragged into the world of spies and he doesn't seem to be able to get out.





	1. i: surveillance

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i've wanted to write a spy au for a g e s and finally just sat down and started. the first two chapters are relatively simpler than the last two, so those might take longer to get sorted. 
> 
> enjoy!!

_brush contact (n.) - a brief moment where two agents ‘meet' and quickly exchange information, documents, and/or equipment_

* * *

Adrien really wishes that his father would inform him when there are new additions to the security detail. There’s something incredibly terrifying about being grabbed by the waist and yanked under a table. It’s _more_ terrifying when it’s not someone you have mentally prepared yourself to be yanked around by.

“Cambric or calico?” he whispers to her.

She shushes him.

He shifts away from her. “Seriously, cambric or calico?”

“Seriously,” she hisses back, “I need you to be quiet. Now isn’t the time to talk about my fashion choices.”

Adrien rolls his eyes and inches closer to the table cloth, ready to run the moment he needs to.

Her hand wraps tightly around his wrist. She’s going to leave bruises. “Do not move.”

He takes a slow breath before turning to looking at her. She has dark red hair that reaches her lower back in gentle curls and dark brown eyes. He memorizes the patterns of her freckles the best he can— someone will be asking him about them later. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Her grip tightens. “You need to trust me.”

Adrien slowly pulls his arm back, wishing she’d let go. “I hear no reasons for why I should be hiding under a table. No gunshots, no fight sounds.”

“You should know better than that,” she murmurs. “Just because you don’t hear the enemy doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” She says the saying sagely, like she’s wiser than she looks. It mostly just makes her sound like she’s repeating something someone has told her constantly. “The smartest enemy is the one you don’t even know you’re fighting.”

He stares at her pointedly.

“I’m not—” She shrinks back as she realizes how loudly she’s speaking. “I’m trying to save your life,” she whispers.

“Cambric or calico,” he repeats.

She gives him a confused look. “Well what are you making?”

“My father didn’t hire you,” Adrien says, trying to pull away his arm.

She scoffs. “Of course he didn’t hire me.”

“Then who did and why should I trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

She sighs. “If you _must_ have a name, call me Ladybug. But I can’t tell you who hired me, you should just trust me because you want to stay alive.”  

Adrien narrows his eyes. “Alright, _Ladybug_ ,” he says, the alias feeling strange in his mouth. “Why are you bugging me?” He snickers at Ladybug’s disgusted expression.

“If I could leave you here right this second, I would,” she grumbles. “I’m actually _offended_ by that.”

He shrugs. “You _could_ leave me here. Seeing how you have no business being here in the first place.”

“Yes I do,” she says, her whispers sharper than a knife. “I’m here to _protect you_.”

Adrien gives her another once over. It doesn’t hurt to keep attempting to commit her appearance to memory. She’s pretty but— “You’re just a kid.”

She rolls her eyes. “So what?”

“How can you protect me? You look like you’re younger than me and I’m bigger and probably stronger—”

Ladybug slaps her hand over his mouth and tightens her grip on his wrist. “First of all,” she hisses, “be quite. Second of all, I could snap you in half.”

He gives her a flat look. He knows he’s skinny and unassuming, but he’s been taking karate since he was old enough for his mom to start getting paranoid— and after he pretended to be a martial arts master and accidentally kicked his dad in the face. He’s a lot stronger than people give him credit for. He also wants Ladybug’s hand off his mouth.

Nathalie will kill him if she finds out, but he doubts Ladybug will go off blabbing.

Her eyes go wide and she jerks away, burying her face in the crook of her arm to muffle her squeal. “You licked me!” she snaps as she glares at Adrien.

“Yup.” He dives toward the table cloth with the goal of just alerting _someone_ that some weird girl with a strange name is attempting to kidnap him.

Ladybug grabs him by the ankles and drags him back. Okay, so she’s stronger than she looks too. She wraps him in a chokehold and grimaces before covering his mouth with her hand again.

Adrien sighs and slumps against her. He figures if he struggles this chokehold will _actually_ choke, but for now it’s more like Ladybug has gently wrapped her arm around his neck. Thoughtful of her.

“You know, you could’ve screamed,” Ladybug says thoughtfully.

Adrien strains to see her. Ladybug lets him move just enough so they can see eye to eye and Adrien raises an eyebrow at her.

She sighs. “Swear you won’t scream now that I’ve given you the idea?”

He nods and she moves her hand away from his mouth, wiping it on his suit jacket. “I don’t want to cause a scene,” he admits.

Ladybug furrows her eyebrows. “What if I _was_ trying to hurt you?”

Adrien shrugs. “Cambric or calico?”

She scowls. “I already _told you_ , I wasn’t hired by your dad!”

“Then who hired you?”

She looks away. “None of your business.”

“I _could_ scream—”

“I know I’m supposed to protect you but I could also snap your neck, so keep that in mind, Agreste.”

Adrien rolls his eyes. “Okay so my dad didn’t hire you but some mysterious shadow person. That’s fine. My question is who hires a ten year old?”

Ladybug stiffens and for a second Adrien fears for his throat. “Someone who needs to protect a ten year old,” she says carefully.

“What are you protecting me from?” he asks softly.

There has to be more to this than just the fact that his dad’s a famous designer, right? He’s always wondered why his parents are so paranoid, why he has to be homeschooled, why he has to always be followed around. He’s been to fashion shows, he knows that other designers don’t have intense security details. He’s just a kid, but he’s not completely oblivious. He’s heard his parents’ hushed worries before, he just doesn’t know what they’re worried _about_.

“Someone who wants to hurt you,” Ladybug says plainly.

Adrien groans. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything?”

“Because it could hurt you.”

“And that’s why we’re hiding under a table?”

“Yes.”

He sighs.

“I’m sorry, were you _having_ fun standing around and drinking soda?” Ladybug loosens her chokehold a little. “This party seems boring. The clothes are nice, but everything is _boring_.”

“That’s cause it’s a grown up party,” Adrien grumbles. “I’m lucky to get to go to these.”

She scrunches up her nose. “Whatever.”

“We could go look at the clothes instead of hiding down here?” he offers.

Ladybug shakes her head. Admittedly, he hadn’t thought it would work, so there’s really no loss there. “We have to stay put until I get the codeword,” she says firmly.

“And what’s that?” Adrien asks.

She gives him a weird look. “That’s classified.”

“What _are_ you?”

She smirks. “That’s for me to know and for you to never find out.”

“More secrets,” he mumbles.

“Sometimes secrets are good,” Ladybug points out.

“And sometimes they get you killed,” Adrien says with a shudder. He’s seen too many movies to think otherwise.

The room quiets and Ladybug pulls them closer to the wall the table is pushed against. Her hand is back over Adrien’s mouth, but this time, he doesn’t care. He can feel her heartbeat against his back and it’s racing and that _can’t_ be a good sign.

“Don’t move,” Ladybug whispers in his ear so softly he can barely make out the words. “Don’t even breathe.”

Adrien closes his eyes and hopes that her codeword comes in soon.

Ladybug slowly releases him from the chokehold. Adrien opens his eyes when she takes his hand and starts crawling toward the end of the table. He raises his eyebrows, but she just presses a finger to her lips.

“If I say run, run,” she murmurs when they reach the tablecloth.

Adrien can’t remember how far away this table is from the door. He gulps. The room had dropped from the normal conversational chatter of these sorts of parties to hushed whispers.

“Ladybug,” he hisses. She shoots him a look that screams ‘be quiet!’ but he shakes his head. “Cambric or calico?” She looks like she’s going to snap at him, but he interrupts her. “The answer is muslin.”

Ladybug blinks. “Why are—”

She’s cut off by something slamming. Her hand tightens around Adrien’s as an ear piercing shriek rings out. “Run!” Ladybug shouts ducking out from under the table and dragging Adrien along with her.

Adrien skids in his dress shoes as Ladybug whips around a corner. He doesn’t know where they’re going or why they’re running or even why he trusts her, but his heart is in his throat and he just tells himself to keep going and not look back.

_What is happening?!_

Adrien’s muscles and lungs are burning when Ladybug stops running in front of a huge set of doors. He vaguely remembers entering through them at the start of the party a few hours ago. He’d been a little too zoned out to know where they were going when they arrived, something he’d definitely chided for later since he hadn’t exactly been the most engaging and his parents— 

 _His parents_.

They had gone with a few other guests to go look at some fancy new something or other that Adrien hadn’t been interested in and hadn’t been invited to see. He has no idea where they are or if they’re okay.

“Ladybu—”

She shushes him. “We can’t go out this way.”

Adrien frowns. “Why can’t we just open the doors…?”

She shakes her head and motions to her ear, like it’ll mean something to him. “We need to find another way,” she mutters. Her eyes narrow as something crashes somewhere behind them. “Ugh! I’m supposed to be better than this!” she complains stomping her foot. “They said I could handle this!”

“ _Who_ ?!” Adrien demands, looking around frantically. The sounds of fighting are coming closer and he really _really_ wants to be somewhere that’s not here. Taking on a ten year old girl is one thing. Taking on what are probably grown adults is something he _can’t_ do.

“I…” Ladybug chews on her lip and Adrien thinks she might draw blood. “I don’t—”

A tour. They’d been given a tour when they first arrived, because Adrien’s mom is old friends with the host and they had arrived a bit early. He _has_ to have seen an escape. He remembers a door in the kitchens, but that’s back by the ballroom the party had been held in and beyond whoever was causing all of _this_.

Adrien suddenly remembers an open window. 

It had been strange, because this house had so few windows that actually opened. Most were just solid panes of glass. 

He makes sure he’s holding Ladybug’s hand tight and drags her away from the door. “I have an idea!” He just hopes he’s going in the right direction.

“This better work,” she says as she catches up to him.

He takes a few wrong turns before he gets them to the library. He yanks on the doors, but they’re locked. And he has no idea where the key could be. He groans and presses his palms to the smooth wood. “There was a window in here,” he says. “It was open just a little bit and didn’t have a screen. And the gardens are right outside it. We could’ve—”

“Move,” Ladybug says sharply nudging him out of the way. She takes a small case out of her pocket and pulls what looks like two metal sticks from it. She sticks out her tongue of the corner of her mouth as she slides them into the lock and fiddles them around.

It takes a surprisingly short amount of time for her to straighten victoriously as the lock clicks. She opens the door and shoves Adrien inside before ducking and closing the door behind them. She grabs a chair and moves it in front of the door under the handle. “Let’s go,” she says, turning to the window.

“Wait,” Adrien says as she opens the window the rest of the way. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

She hesitates and looks down into the bushes below. “Someone is supposed to die tonight,” she says softly.

Adrien stares at her, his mind fogging. “M-me?”

Ladybug shakes her head. “No, not you.”

“Then who?”

She closes her eyes. “That’s classified.”

“Why is everything classified!?”

“Because it’s safer that way!” she snaps. She grabs him by the arm and yanks him over to the window, nearly pushing him through it. He braces himself on the window sill and stares down into the butterfly bush below. Ladybug sighs. “Please just climb out before I throw you out.”

“My parents—”

“Will be found after. Please—” He turns to look at her and her eyes are wide. She glances anxiously to the door and the chair wedged under the handle. They both know it won’t do anything if anyone really wants to come in. “ _Please_ ,” Ladybug begs. “Just let me do my job.”

Adrien climbs out the window.

The drop is a little higher than he was ready for and he drops to one knee when he hits the ground. He winces as his ankle protests the weird landing. For the first time today, he’s glad he’s wearing a suit. The branches of the butterfly bush scratch his face and if his arms weren’t covered, they’d probably be bleeding. He steps out of the way and Ladybug drops from the window with significantly more grace.

She takes his hand and pulls him out of the bushes. “We’re out,” she says. “In the gardens, what’s your location?”

Adrien realizes she must have some sort of earpiece. That’s where she was supposed to get the codeword from. He wonders if it ever came.

He follows her mindlessly through the grounds. Sometimes she talks to whoever is on the other end of her earpiece, but mostly they’re quiet. He has a lot of questions, but isn’t sure how to ask any of them.

Adrien doesn’t realize how far they’ve gotten from the house until they’re wandering around the streets of the city. The house had been a little way away from the nearest town, nestled in between hills in the French countryside. It had been a long ride there and Adrien had fallen asleep playing Pokémon in the backseat.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since they left the party. Or since Ladybug pulled him under the table.

He keeps circling back to what she had said. Someone is supposed to die. That’s something you’re only supposed to hear in the movies, isn’t it? That’s not— That’s not _real life_.

And if someone was supposed to die but it wasn’t him, then why did _he_ need protection?

Adrien has an answer and thinking about it made him feel sick. So he doesn’t.

His hand is sweating and he hopes Ladybug doesn’t mind. He’d let go, but he doesn’t think she’d let him and he doesn’t want to. It’s nice to have something grounding when everything has been flipped upside down.

Ladybug brings him to a hotel. They take the elevator to the seventh floor and go to room 716. She knocks what seems like a very specific pattern before the door is opened. The man who opens the door ushers them inside without a word.

Adrien does a double take. The room is filled with people, whispering to each other as they’re bent over all sorts of equipment. They all look up to see him and Ladybug before immediately going back to work.

Ladybug let’s go of his hand.

She starts talking to the man who opened the door rapidly in what Adrien vaguely recognizes as Mandarin. He only started learning a year or two ago, but he catches a few words, like ‘table’, ‘library’, and ‘parents’.

“My parents,” Adrien says suddenly. Everyone’s eyes snap to him and he tries not to wilt under all of the intense gazes. “I need to find my parents.”

The man puts his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I’ll bring them to you as soon as I finish with Ladybug,” he promises. He switches back to Mandarin and returns to him and Ladybug’s competition.

“Hey, kid.” Adrien looks over to one of the people sitting on the bed. This bed has five people on it and far too much equipment. They’re all practically laying on top of each other. The one who spoke moves a laptop and pats the open spot on the bed. “Sit down. It might take a while.”

So Adrien sits. And Adrien waits.

Time no longer has meaning, he’s just stuck in a limbo of confusion and questions. None that will get answered by anyone in the room. He can see a few of the screens, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t understand anything on them. When people talk, they talk quickly, in hushed tones, using codewords that he doesn’t understand. Ladybug and the man keep talking in a language he doesn’t understand.

He feels like he’s drowning in the unknown. It caught him and he couldn’t get out and now it’s closing over his head and he can’t breathe.

It’s darker now. The sun is setting. Adrien knows the party started around midafternoon. His mom must be worried.

At some point he’s handed a waterbottle and a bag of chips. He drinks the water and picks at the chips. He feels too weird to eat, too overwhelmed.

Ladybug and the man are sitting on the floor, still talking but talking much slower now. Adrien is able to pick up more of their conversation at this pace, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to know but he also doesn’t. But he’s also tired, so he zones them out.

He ends up on the floor between the bed and the wall. It’s more comfortable down here and a bit more spacious than his tiny spot on the bed. He bundles up his suit jacket and uses it as a pillow.

Adrien stares at the ugly hotel wallpaper. His dad would be disgusted and his mom would laugh and promise to tear it down. And when they did, they’d draw all over the bare walls before painting over their art. His dad would draw dresses and suits and designs that Adrien could imagine royalty wearing. His mom would draw mostly flowers but then sketch out faces that looked so real they could come to life. Adrien would draw lots of Pokémon and lots of cats. He’d try and copy his parents’ drawings and fail miserably, but his mom would smother him in kisses as he laughed and tell them they were beautiful. And then they’d paint the walls a color his dad found less ugly and the drawings would be hidden. They’d never be seen again, but he would know they were there.

Adrien rolls away from the wall and stares at the comforter that hung over the side of the bed.

He falls asleep at some point. He’s not sure when, but Ladybug shakes him awake, squeezed between the bed and wall with him. “We’re bringing you back,” she says softly.

Adrien groans as he sits up, blinking blearily at her. “You are?” Part of him thought he was going to be stuck in this hotel room forever.

Ladybug nods and takes his hand to pull him to his feet.

Four of the five people on the bed Adrien sat on are asleep. The fifth is typing rapidly on a laptop that’s resting on someone else’s legs. About half the room is asleep while the other half continues to work. There’s empty takeout containers sitting on a table and water bottles littered around the room.

Ladybugs brings Adrien to the man, who’s waiting by the door. “I’m staying here,” she says, looking away. She throws her arms around Adrien’s neck in a tight hug before quickly stepping away. “Goodbye.”

Adrien looks up at the man. “I’m not going to see any of you again, am I?”

The man shakes his head. “You won’t be seeing us, Monsieur Agreste. And believe me, that’s for the best.”

Ladybug tugs on her hair and won’t meet Adrien’s eyes.

“Thanks,” Adrien says softly, “for saving me.”

She nods quickly before turning away. “You’re welcome.” Her voice is hoarse and shaky.

“Lock the door behind us,” the man says to Ladybug. He opens it and Adrien follows him out into the hallway. The door shuts softly behind them and they wait to hear the deadbolt click before they start to the elevator.

Adrien follows the nameless man outside to a car. They get in the car and drive for some period of time, he doesn’t know for how long, he doesn’t check the clock.

He rests his head against the cold glass and watches the world fly past until he falls asleep.

Adrien wakes up as the car slows. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. They’re back in Paris, they’re in front of his house. _Home_. He reaches to unbuckle his seatbelt before glancing to the man, unsure if he’s allowed to move or not. The man nods and Adrien fumbles with his seatbelt before throwing the door open.

He almost trips as he climbs out of the car and runs up to the camera and bell. He presses the button eagerly, despite whatever awful hour it is. They have to be up, they have to be waiting for him.

The gate swings open without a word.

Adrien glances back at the car before sprinting up the walkway to the front door. Nathalie opens it as he climbs the steps.

“I’m so sorry,” he bursts out. “There was this girl and she—”

“Adrien,” she says softly, stiffly.

“Père, Mère, are they awake?” he asks. “Can I see them? I—”

“Adrien,” Nathalie says, harsher this time.

“Do they know I’m okay because the people I was with wouldn’t tell me anything so—”

“ _Adrien!_ ” Nathalie snaps.

Adrien steps back in surprise.

She sighs and fixes her glasses. “Adrien… Your father isn’t home right now.”

His heart almost stops. “W-why not? What time is it?”

“It’s late,” she says. She puts a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and guides him into the house.

“But why isn’t Père home?” It’s getting harder to breathe, he’s drowning, just like he was in that hotel room.

“Your mother.”

Adrien freezes.

“Adrien, something happened at the party. And your mother didn’t make it.”

Time stops.

“She died.”


	2. ii: covers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien is thirteen and has a party to attend, much to his displeasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this fic exists still. 
> 
> you might have noticed that this fic changed from 4 chapters to 5. that's because i had literally off this chapter but about 100 words written for....i wanna say at least two months. since this chapter was already sort of broken up into two, i just made it official so i could finally post this part. also it makes more sense this way. 
> 
> also, hopefully you can understand why adrien acts the way he does in this fic. if not, i'm always willing to discuss it (it should be fairly clear, but it's been three years since the last chapter)
> 
> warnings in this chapter for anxiety and dissociation

Nathalie knocks on Adrien’s door, but he’s already awake. He’s been awake for a few hours now, just staring at the wall. 

Productive. 

Staring at the wall maybe isn’t the best use of his time, but he figures that he’s thirteen and allowed to be overly dramatic and emotional. 

When Nathalie knocks again, Adrien sighs and says, “I’m awake.” 

He hears the door swing open. He doesn’t look away from the wall, but he knows she’s sweeping her eyes around the room, judging him and judging his mess. He’ll clean up later. Moving is something he has to do now, though. 

Adrien sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth down his bedhead. “Yes?” 

“I just wanted to remind you that Mademoiselle Bourgeois’ party is today,” Nathalie says, tapping on her tablet. “And aside from that, your schedule for the rest of the day is completely clear. You’re welcome to spend that time however you please, but I would advise getting ready at least half an hour before we depart.” 

He stops himself from groaning and flopping back on his pillow and settles for giving Nathalie a half smile. “Thanks, Nat. I’ll be ready.” 

She nods curtly and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. 

With her gone, he’s able to do exactly what he wanted: he groans loudly and lays back down. He grabs the other pillow and presses it against his face. He’d scream, but he’s not feeling it. He’s just feeling…empty. 

Not that’s new or anything. 

It takes him a while to get out of bed. It takes him a while longer to get off the floor, because he sort of just rolled out of bed instead of actually standing up. As he sits on the floor, he contemplates life and wonders if he should break any of those rules that his father has in place. It’s been three years, shouldn’t he be a little rebellious? That’s what teenagers do, right? 

Learning social cues from only anime and Chloé has not been good for him. 

He can break the rules some other time. 

When Adrien picks himself up from the floor, he moves over to the couch to continue being a potato. He grabs an old sketchbook and a pencil off his desk as he passes it, determined to do something slightly more productive than stare off into space for a few hours. He curls up on the couch and draws mindlessly, shifting from simple geometric shapes and edges to the smooth lines of faces and swoops of fabric. Adrien has no amazing talent for art, he hadn’t inherited that from his parents. His strengths tend to lie more in numbers and data, but he still finds himself doodling flowers on scrap paper. 

He draws a camellia slowly and carefully, lining it darker and darker until his pencil nearly breaks. 

Adrien doesn’t like parties. 

For a select few, it’s painfully clear why, but Chloé is not one of those people. He’s managed to wiggle out of all her parties until now, coming up with all sorts of excuses and responsibilities and putting on his most sincere expression when he told her he wasn’t able to go, desperately trying to hide his relief. But this is a birthday party, an important one, because she’s finally a teenager, and rejecting  _ another _ invitation from her without an incredibly good explanation would be many,  _ many _ levels of not good. Chloé is only patient for so long. He’s lucky he’s lasted as long as he has.

He draws a tiny ladybug on one of the camellia’s petals. Maybe he can just fake a smile through this one and then come back and sleep for a few days. He never really leaves the house as is, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem if he just shuts down, right? 

Adrien sighs and puts down his sketchbook. Chloé said she was going to send him pictures of her dress so he could match. He might as well be a decent friend and do that much. 

Once he sees Chloé’s dress — yellow, as usual, he’s not really sure what he expected — it only takes a few minutes for him to make sure his outfit matches. He’s the son of one of the biggest names in fashion, making sure outfits don’t clash is as natural as breathing. 

He lays the outfit out on the bed and drowns himself in video games until it’s time to get ready. At least in video games he has multiple chances to save the day.

Adrien is sitting in the limo on the way to the party when he realizes how tight the collar of his shirt is. It’s choking him, strangling him, blocking his airway and making the world spin and blur in and out. He swallows hard and tries to sit still. His palms are sweaty and his head is spinning. 

Three years of avoiding things like this. Then his luck ran out. 

He’s having a hard time breathing, it’s hard to catch his breath. Like his binder is a size too small or something. He knows it’s not, he’s worn it before and he was fine before he got in the car. But there’s a pressure on his chest, and despite knowing that it’s all mental, in his mind, he can only see his chest constricting and crushing his lungs. 

Adrien closes his eyes and takes a few slow, measured breaths. He’s  _ fine _ , it’s just a party at Chloé’s hotel. He’s been there before, he’s been there hundreds of times. He knows all of the floors, all of the hallways, all the nooks and crannies. He knows where the entrances and exits are and where there’s a hidden panic button. He knows this hotel as well as Chloé does, he has nothing to worry about. 

It’s just a party. 

The car comes to a stop. 

He shoves back the bubbling panic. He can do this later, when he’s at home in his room, safe and sound. He just has to get through a few hours of awkward socializing first, and Chloé can handle most of that. With Chloé around, all Adrien has to do is smile and look pretty. 

Nathalie nods to him as he reaches for the door. “You’ll be fine,” she says, reading him as easily as she always does. “Although, you do have a piano recital to rehearse for today,” she says pointedly. “Rachmaninoff.” 

Adrien stares at her for a long moment. “Rachmaninoff?” he asks. 

“Rachmaninoff,” Nathalie repeats with a flat expression. 

“Got it,” he murmurs, running the name over in his mind. He’ll write it down on his phone as soon as he gets inside so he doesn’t forget it. He doesn’t think it’s possible that he will, he wouldn’t forget his one lifeline. 

Surprisingly, Chloé doesn’t meet him at the entrance. He’s not sure how he feels about that. The normal doorman is there, nodding to Adrien as he steps into the hotel, and Adrien takes a slow breath and focuses on all the familiarity around him. The smell of the hotel, the lights, the sounds.

He grabs a pen from the front desk and scribbles the name on the palm of his hand. He blows on the ink until it dries and then closes his fist tightly, like if he lets go of the word he’ll disappear. 

He’s pointed to the grand ballroom by a staff member he surprisingly doesn’t recognize. He’d be lying if he said the unfamiliar face didn’t make anxiety swell in his chest until he was out of their sight. As he gets closer to the ballroom, the sounds of the party reach his ears. There’s loud laughter and music and talking and Adrien’s heart  _ races _ . 

His feet cement themselves into the ground. He’s still an entire hallway away, but he can’t move. He feels a little like his mind has disconnected from his body, he’s watching everything from underwater or through a weird lense. Everything feels off and wrong. 

The sound of heels clicking against the polished floors snaps him out of it. 

Adrien steps to the side to move out of the girl’s way, but she steps the same way. 

“Excuse me,” she mumbles, stepping left. 

“S-sorry,” he says at the same time as her, also stepping left. 

They stare at each other and step left again. 

There’s something about her… Something that makes her seem familiar. He studies her face, her hazel eyes, her light brown hair that brushes her shoulders, her freckles. He knows her, and from more than just a passing glance, but he can’t place her. 

She blushes lightly. “I- I have to—” 

“Yeah, I’ll just—” 

They move in the same direction again, right this time. She closes her eyes with a forced laugh and Adrien swears…

She puts her hands on his shoulders and turns him around in what is so close to a waltz step Adrien can almost hear the music. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes. She spins away and starts to make her way down the hallway. 

Something connects in his mind. She has more than she did before, but the darkest ones he remembers. How could he forget.

“Ladybug?” he whispers. 

She freezes, muscles tense. She slowly turns around to face him. “Excuse me?” 

“I…” Adrien hadn’t actually meant for her to hear him. She stares at him, eyes wide and confused and a little empty looking, and her gaze sends a shiver down his spine. He gulps and gives her a once over before he studies her freckles again. They’re absolutely the same ones that are burned into his mind. “Aren’t you—?”

She shushes him and yanks the door next to them open before shoving him into the closet. “What did you just call me?” she asks as she shuts the door behind him and flicks on the lights. 

“Y-you told me to call you Ladybug…?” 

She narrows her eyes. “How did you recognize me? Nothing about me is the same?” 

Adrien sags in relief. So he isn’t losing his mind or something. 

Ladybug grabs him by the wrist, tight enough to leave bruises. “How?!” She glares at him and he thinks she may actually be staring into his soul. 

His heart leaps to his throat. Why is she here?

Why—

“Freckles!” he admits, yanking his arm away. He cradles it to his chest, like it’ll somehow change the situation. “Your freckles.” 

Ladybug’s hand flies up to her cheek and she swears under her breath before narrowing her eyes. “Why were you looking at my freckles?”   
“W-where was I supposed to look?” Adrien stutters. He doesn’t know how he was supposed to forget her freckles. He still sees her sometimes in his dreams— although now he’s not entirely sure what she actually looks like aside from the dots speckling her cheeks. 

“I— Not the point.” Ladybug rubs her temples. 

Adrien inhales sharply. 

She looks to him in surprise. “What?” 

“Why are you here?” The words sound strange. Like he’s underwater or trying to hear them though white noise. They get caught in his throat and cut as they fall from his mouth. 

Ladybug pales. She remembers. He doesn’t know why she wouldn’t be, but for some reason he feels relieved that she does. “I- I’m… I mean it’s class—”

“Classified,” he interrupts breathlessly. “Right.” He moves to run his hand through his hair. “Of cou—” 

Ladybug’s hand shoots out and grabs his arm. 

Adrien freezes, his hand hovering inches above his head and his heart beating loud in his ears. 

She yanks his hand toward her and lifts his palm close to her face, squinting at it. “What is this?” she demands,  glaring up at him. 

“A name?” he says, confused. 

“What does it mean?!” she hisses. 

Adrien frowns. “I-it’s just a pianist? Rachmaninoff? He a Russian pianist and composer and his techniq—” 

“Is it code?” Ladybug interrupts. 

Adrien blinks. “You…think that I’d…write a code word on my  _ hand _ ?” He can’t stop his grin as it widens. “I don’t even do your thing and I know that’s amature.” 

She scowls and drops his hand. “You can never be too sure,” she mutters, crossing her arms and looking away as her cheeks turn pink. 

“I mean…you aren’t entirely wrong,” Adrien admits.

Ladybug looks up in surprise. 

“But it’s not a spy thing.” She opens her mouth to say something, but he presses on. “It’s a personal thing.  A way to get out of a social situation if I need to get out. An escape.” 

“How do you know about the spy thing?” she asks softly.

He furrows his eyebrows. “I mean— you didn’t exactly wipe my memory last time or anything. I remember… _ everything _ . What was I supposed to think?” 

Ladybug sinks in on herself. 

“Why didn’t you protect my mother?” He asks before he realizes he even has the question on his mind. He wants to take it back, but at the same time— 

He’s spent three years without asking about anything. He hasn’t said a word. He knows nothing. There are answers out there, he has to start learning them. 

“Your mother wasn’t my responsibility,” Ladybug says carefully. 

“Why didn’t  _ someone _ save her?” Adrien corrects, his voice tight. 

“I—” Ladybug shakes her head. “Missions go wrong sometimes, okay? It happens.”

“Why was my family even in danger?”

“Classified.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“Classified.” 

“Who here is in danger?” 

“Why would you assume—” 

“Why else would you be here?” Adrien interrupts. 

“A lot of reasons,” Ladybug insists. “Intelligence, for one. Infiltration.” 

“You’re attending a thirteen year old’s birthday party,” he points out. “Just because they’re rich kids doesn’t mean they know anything.” 

“I could say the same of you,” she snips. She spins around, Adrien stepping back as her hair whacks him in the face. Her hand hovers over the doorknob. “Pretend you don’t know me,” she says. 

Adrien furrows his eyebrows. “But—” 

“Pretend you don’t know me!” she snaps. “But if you  _ have _ to call me something just call me MDC. Do  _ not _ call me Ladybug.” 

She leaves him alone in the closet, with more questions than he could ever get answers to.

Adrien doesn’t feel real when he joins the rest of the party in the ballroom. Chloé wraps him in a tight hug and says it’s so great that he’s  _ finally _ come to one of her parties, isn’t it all just so  _ great _ and her perfume makes his head spin and the embroidery on her dress rubs against his neck when she hugs him— but nothing feels real. It’s like his head is filled with static or he’s underwater. 

He’s just moving through the motions. 

Before he knows it, the party is over and people are leaving. He doesn’t see Ladybug — MDC — again. Maybe she changed what she looks like, maybe she just left. But everyone is alive, as far as Adrien is aware. 

He leaves the hotel. 

He breathes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprising no one, adrien is trans. i don't have any idea when the next chapter will be finished (i'm juggling a musical, camp nano, a mini bang, aps, and college stuff right now) but i'll try my best to finish it as soon as possible!
> 
> you can come bug me on [tumblr](http://sadrien.tumblr.com/tagged/my-fics)!


	3. iii: eyes only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien is sixteen and is given too much responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright. so. despite the fact that the number of chapters in this fic keeps increasing, the length actually won't. i'm just realizing i split this up really poorly the first time around (i was having severe vertigo so you'll have to forgive me)
> 
> i wrote this in like an hour and a half last night after midnight because i was suddenly Struck With Inspiration so....yup
> 
> thank you to megatraven for looking this over to check the rating! that being said, warnings for this chapter: lots of mentions of blood, death, killings, and offscreen violence
> 
> enjoy some bad action

Adrien carefully picks his way through the crowd. He does his best not to bump into anyone — with his luck, he’ll make someone spill something all over their very expensive clothing and he doesn’t want to have to deal with the consequences of that right now — but the hallway is crowded with people who escaped from the main room to get some air.

Adrien still hates parties.

His father has been pushing him to go to more social events, mostly so his father can show him off for his talents, but it never gets any better. People will fawn over Adrien’s piano playing (even though he’s fairly certain most who compliment him haven’t heard him play) or how many advanced courses he’s taking (because he’s home schooled and tutored and literally has nothing better to do with his life than homework) or even just how gorgeous he is. He looks like his mother more than his father. People who knew her always mention it. Those compliments are more painful than anything else.

Adrien loosens his tie as he squeezes through the last of the crowd. He needs to find someplace quiet. He doesn’t know his way around this event hall, it’s his first time here unfortunately and he’s barely scoped out more than the main exits. That makes him more uncomfortable than he’s willing to admit.

It doesn’t take him too long to find a small room off one of the side hallways. It’s some sort of unused powder room, but it works for now. He doesn’t bother closing the door, he’ll only be a few minutes. He leans against the wall with a sigh.

It’s been easier to get through large events recently, but they’re no fun. He doesn’t really know how to talk to people. He mostly just smiles and nods and accepts compliments. When he’s lucky, his father handles most of the talking and he just stands there and looks pretty.

He’d rather be at home playing video games or listening to Chloé rant about whatever she’s upset about for the time being.

The unfortunate part about events like these is that his father is always looking for him. Adrien tries to calculate how long he can stay away before his father sends out half of Paris as a search party.

Adrien tenses as he hears a scream.

_ It’s nothing _ , he tells himself. It can’t be anything— the security here—

There’s a few loud bangs and more screaming. People running. Crashing. Adrien’s heart is in his ears. He can’t breathe. He scoots further into his cramped sanctuary, trying to make himself as small as he possibly can. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on his breathing because he knows logically that hyperventilating right now will do him no good, but he can’t help it.

The water is closing over his head.

People run past the room. He hears sobbing. There is still yelling down the hall. Things hitting each other. Another bang.

He refuses to acknowledge what the bang is.

Someone’s footsteps skid to a stop outside the room.

Adrien regrets not closing the door.

“Adrien?” someone asks in surprise.

He opens a single eye. The girl in the doorway glances over her shoulder before she slips into the room, shutting the door and joining Adrien in the shadowy corner.

“Who are you?” he asks, voice low.

She clenches her jaw and looks to the door. Her black hair is twisted into an intricate updo and her dark brown eyes seem to pierce his soul when she looks back to him. “Ladybug,” she whispers. “I’m Ladybug. MDC.” 

Adrien’s eyes go wide and he swears his heart stops. “Ladybug,” he repeats. That means—

She grabs his hand and presses something into it. An edge is hard and sharp against Adrien’s palm. “I need you to take this,” she hisses. “It's important.”

“But—”

She shakes her head. “It was my mission but…” She closes her eyes. “It didn’t go as planned.”

“I can see that,” Adrien says bitterly. “What were you doing?”

“It’s classified,” she says like an automatic response. He gives her the best glare he can muster and she sighs. “I was supposed to be getting this information.” She closes his hand around whatever she’s given him. “Someone else, my partner, was supposed to be protecting someone. I… The client is still alive but—”

“Stop,” Adrien interrupts. “I get it.”

Ladybug nods shortly. “I need you to get this out.”

“Why do you trust me?” he asks. “You don’t know me.”

She presses her ear. “Master?” she asks, clearly no longer talking to Adrien. “I’ve had to hand off the documents so I can protect civilians.” She makes a noise of agreement. “He’ll give you a code word when he passes it off to you,” she meets Adrien's eyes, “codeword: muslin.”

Adrien squeezes his palm tight, knowing the object is going to leave indents on his palm for a while after he lets go of it. “Where do I bring it?” he asks her when she signs off and lowers her hand from her ear.

“There’s a tea shop,” Ladybug says. She pulls a pen from her hair. Adrien had thought it was a pin of some sort. She grabs his hand and scribbles something on his palm.

Adrien tilts his head to look at it while she writes. “That’s not an address,” he points out.

“No,” she admits. “I can’t give you that. But I can give you a bit of code. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.”

“But—”

“I don't know you well,” Ladybug interrupts. “But I know you well enough to know you’re smart and resourceful. At least, that’s what I assume from what your father was saying about you today.” She gives him a tight smile. “Go inside, order some tea. Say you want black tea because you can’t stand green. They’ll know what you mean.”

Adrien runs the words over in his mind. “I…okay.” He squeezes his palm tight again. “Okay.”

Ladybug winces as there’s another bang. “I believe in you,” she whispers. “I have to go. You can do this.”

Adrien nods wordlessly. He only knows two exits for this building. The main exit is definitely a bad idea.

Ladybug leans forward and presses a kiss to Adrien’s lips. Soft, gentle, and quick. She smells like vanilla. “Thank you,” she murmurs as she pulls away. Her eyes are hard as she sweeps out of the room, hauling up her skirt and pulling something from a holster on her leg.

Adrien closes his eyes as he hears her heels click against the floor. He doesn’t want to hear any more screaming, any more bangs.

Something crashes.

Adrien’s eyes snap open.

He has to get out.

Adrien tries not to think about the discarded items that he passes in the halls. Lost shoes, dropped purses, shattered phones. He keeps close to walls and is so overly aware of his breathing there are a few times where he stops breathing altogether.

He clamps his free hand over his mouth when he approaches the main entrance from a side hall. He has to leans heavily against a wall for a long moment, attempting to keep his breathing steady and the bile in his throat down.

There are two bodies on the floor, blood seeping out of them and covering the white tile.

He’s found out what happened to security.

Adrien had slipped away earlier in the party with one of the other guests, who needed to talk to the kitchen about dietary restrictions and didn’t want to go alone. He could get out that way.

He quickly turns away from the cooling bodies and moves down another hallway, hoping he doesn’t get lost in the maze of rooms.

Adrien slips into the kitchen, now abandoned. He turns off the stoves and ovens as he makes his way through, knowing the last thing they need at this point is a fire on top of the—

His shoes bump something on the floor.

Adrien glances down to see one of the chefs, facedown on the floor surrounded by a pool of blood.

He swallows thickly and steps around the body. He tries to empty his mind and holds his breath as he hurries out of the kitchen.

They must’ve gotten rid of the staff before heading to the party. All he can think is that the chef must've been a warning.

Adrien thinks he’s going to be sick.

He opens the kitchen door just a crack, surprised and relieved to find no one is outside it. He throws the door open and starts running.

He keeps his shoes on although he’s leaving bloody footprints all over the place. Hopefully the blood comes off soon.

He wants nothing more than to run home, all the way, and curl up in a ball and never move again. He wants to be safe and secure and not  _ here _ .

When Adrien reaches an intersection, he stops, panting. His lungs feel like they’re on fire. His legs feel like jello. He’s still holding on to whatever Ladybug gave him tightly.

Ladybug. Hopefully Ladybug is okay.

When did his definition of ‘okay’ turn into ‘alive’?

Adrien finally really reads what she’s written on his free hand.

_ ‘Two skips from a slice of heaven. Under the eyes of Love. See her stand tall in the distance as you dance along the stream.’ _

Helpful.

He needs to sit down and think about this. A slice of heaven? What does that mean? He could just wander around Paris until he finds that, but he’s thinking that’s not the best idea. Not if people are willing to kill for this information.

He almost falls over.

People have  _ killed _ for what he holds in his hands.

Shit.

Adrien is pretty sure this is far too much responsibility for a sixteen year old to have. He shouldn’t be carrying around such precious information. Blood has been shed for information that is now being held by someone who played Mecha Strike for three days straight the other weekend.

He checks behind him, glad to see that he’s no longer leaving tracks, and walks to the nearest store. He has a some euros on him in his wallet, but he’d left his phone at home at his father’s request. He’s going to start ignoring his father whenever he’s told that.

Adrien buys himself a sweatshirt and jeans and takes off his suit and tie, stuffing them in a random drawstring bag that he also buys. He finds a pair of cheap converse and buys those too, throwing his dress shoes out at the next available opportunity.

He looks a little like a tourist, with  _ Paris _ written across his chest in bold font. 

At least he looks less out of place now.

He debates sitting in a fast food restaurant for a bit to try and figure out Ladybug’s riddle, but he doesn’t know if he can be around food right now, much less stomach any. He still feels nauseous, the bodies and dark red blood swimming in his mind whenever he closes his eyes.

He decides to skip figuring out what ‘slice of heaven’ means for now and wanders the streets as he works on the rest of it.

Obviously, Paris is known as the city of love. But he doesn’t know who ‘Love’ is. If he can figure that out, the rest shouldn’t be too bad? If he can find a general area, finding the tea shop shouldn’t be too hard. He just needs some place to start.

The stream has to be the Seine. At least, that’s what his gut tells him. So the shop is by the Seine. That’s a start.

Adrien walks to the Seine and stands by the edge of the river, looking around. He spots the Eiffel Tower off in the distance. His eyes go wide.

The tea shop is along the Seine where you can see the Eiffel Tower. You can probably see the Tower from the shop. But that’s still far too much for Adrien to work off of. He doesn’t think he has enough time to scope all that area.

He frowns as he walks along the river. He’s sure if he can figure out the ‘slice of heaven’, the rest will fall into place.

He looks up to cross the street and sees a sign on the corner of a block.  _ Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie _ . Adrien stares at it for a long moment. Could ‘a slice of heaven’ be talking about a bakery?

He has nothing to lose.

He restrains himself from sprinting over, making sure to check both ways before crossing the street. Adrien pushes the door opening, a bell jingling over his head as he does so, and the surprisingly comforting smells of freshly baked pastries washes over him.

The woman standing behind the counter gives him a warm and genuine smile. “How may I help you today?” she asks.

Adrien hesitates before he walks up to the counter. “I actually need directions,” he admits. He wishes he could buy something to make up for taking up some of her time, but despite the delicious smell, he still doesn’t think he can eat. He still remembers how it felt when his foot made contact with the chef’s body.

“Sure thing, honey,” she says, “where do you need to get to?”

“A tea shop,” Adrien answers, hoping that she knows one despite the vagueness.

She raises an eyebrow. “Any tea shop? Do you want recommendations?”

“Uh, I’m meeting a friend,” he lies. “They forgot to give me the name. They just said it was around here…?”

She purses her lips in thought. “There’s one along the Seine two skips away,” she says. “It’s the nearest that I know of.”

Adrien's heart jumps to his throat. “Two skips?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager.

“Two blocks,” she corrects. “My daughter always says skips. She used to think that a block on a map looked like it was only a skip long.” 

“Two blocks,” Adrien repeats. “I think that’s it, thank you!”  
She smiles. “Happy to help. Just take a left when you reach the river. It should take you no time at all to get there!”  
Adrien barely gets another ‘thank you!’ out before he's out the door.

_ Two blocks _ .

He breaks into a sprint.

Adrien almost runs past the tea shop. He barely registers the sign before he goes inside, his racing heart and heavy breathing feeling out of place in the calm and quiet tea shop.

He orders “black tea, can’t stand green” and waits.

He doesn’t know what to expect.

A steaming cup of black tea is placed in front of him. Adrien stares at it as it cools and waits. After a few minutes, someone walks up to him and says he’s needed in a back room. He’s led to a small, dimly lit room.

A man is sitting at a table, sipping a cup of tea.

Adrien freezes in the doorway. He still remembers the way the man had looked at him when he dropped him off at his house, just before he found that his mother was dead. He remembers how Ladybug and the man had had hushed conversations in Mandarin as he stared ahead at nothing.

He’s actually not that surprised.

The man smiles and motions to the seat across from him. “Have a seat, Adrien. They’ll bring you your tea.”

Adrien gulps and enters the room, wincing when the chair scrapes against the floor when he pulls it out.

“A lovely sweatshirt,” the man says calmly. “It’s not made out of muslin, is it?”

Adrien's ears perk up at the word ‘muslin’. “No,” he answers, squeezing the object Ladybug gave him tightly. He suddenly realizes he hasn’t even thought to look at what it is. “I think it’s polyester.” He glances to the doorway to make sure no one is there before he puts holds his closed fist over the table. It takes a surprising amount of effort to open his hand and let a black flash drive fall into the man’s open palm.

“Sounds comfortable,” the man says with a smile. He closes his hand around the flashdrive and pulls it toward him. “Did you spend much on it?”

Adrien shakes his head. A server enters the room and hands him his tea. Adrien takes a careful sip. “Not much,” he says when the server leaves. “But I don’t have any money for a phone call anymore. Or a cab.”

The man chuckles. “Need a ride home?”

Adrien nods.

The man places a phone on the table. “I think I can help with that.”

“Is she okay?” Adrien asks as he takes the phone. He starts to dial Nathalie’s phone number.

The man keeps his gaze steady. “I’ve been in contact with her a few times today,” he says carefully. “Your father is doing well.”

That didn’t answer Adrien’s question as much as he wanted it to, but he’ll take it. Nathalie picks up the phone on the first ring. Adrien gives her the name of the tea shop and she promises to have a car on its way soon. When he hangs up the phone and hands it back to the man, the man bows his head.

“Thank you for your assistance, Adrien Agreste.” He smiles knowingly. “I don’t doubt I’ll see you again in the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, i have no idea when this will be updated. but keep an eye on [my tumblr](http://sadrien.tumblr.com) if you want to support me or if you want to find out about a cool thing i'm doing in about a month *eyes emoji*
> 
> also yes i know i'm complete garbage at riddles shhhhh

**Author's Note:**

> :0
> 
> ten year olds totally act like this shut up
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://sadrien.tumblr.com/tagged/my-fics) if you wanna bug me or ask any questions! (hopefully those will be answered by the rest of the fic tho!!!)


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